


Thundering Skies

by WhileTrue



Series: Variations in Past Minor [3]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - World War I, F/F, Fighter Pilots, Korra and Asami are pilots, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4637532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhileTrue/pseuds/WhileTrue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra and Asami are pilots fighting at the Western front during the WWI.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A chilly breeze brushes through Korra’s hair as she steps off the train. It’s the beginning of April and the cold of winter is still hanging in the air. She pulls at the collar of her warm leather jacket to protect herself from the wind. Adjusting her transport bag on her shoulder, she follows four of her fellow comrades towards the exit of the small train station. She’s familiar with only one of their faces – a young man, who has gone through his training at the same base as she has, but she doesn’t know his name. If she remembers correctly, he’s been training on bomber planes, while Korra has been drilling on fighter planes.

Once outside, two officers greet them. One of them starts speaking in French, which leaves Korra and the others confused. When he finishes though, the other officer quickly translates what the first one has said.

“Welcome to France. It is highly advisable that you learn French ASAP. Most of the time you won’t be so lucky to have the company of someone who can. I’m flight lieutenant Baker,” says the man and then points to his French companion, “and this is group commander Martin. We will escort you to the military air base near Bar-le-Duc, where No. 19 and 48 Squadrons of the Royal Flying Corps and Escadrille MS22 are stationed. There you’ll be assigned to your units and planes. Any questions?”

Korra and the others look at each other, shrugging their shoulders when no one seems to be willing to ask anything. “No, sir!” they reply in unison.

“Very well then,” says the flight lieutenant and turns to the commander, telling him something in French. The higher ranking officer nods. “Follow me,” commands the Englishman, and they start marching in an orderly fashion until they reach the truck, that takes them to the air force base.

It’s a short ride and soon they find themselves standing almost ankle deep in mud, in the middle of the airbase. Korra looks down at her boots and releases a deep sigh. _I just cleaned them on the train ride_ , she thinks and slumps her shoulders. The truck drives off and the lieutenant joins them, though he manages to avoid most of the dirt and finds himself a decently dry spot. “Eyes on me,” he says and everyone lifts their gazes, their shoulders drawn slightly back and chests puffed out. Even though Korra feels like her feet keep sinking, she stands still at attention. “This is now your home for an indefinite time. As you may already know, even though it’s been almost three years, the war still isn’t even close to the end. Especially here. We’re located close to the Western Front, where the Germans are holding their lines firmly. Since the war began, no significant advances have been made if I may say so.” He falls silent for a moment, inspecting the fresh faces in front of him. “On the 9th of April, that’s in two days, our troops will start an offensive near the city of Arras. It will be up to us to provide a strong support and defence for the bombers, who will clean the way for the infantry. This morning, a flight of six brand new Bristols went on a patrol. We expect them to return with information about possible enemy movements. Before they return though, you’ll take your things to your rooms, where you will wait for further commands. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!” the newbies reply again in unison.

Taking a piece of paper out of his pocket, the lieutenant clears his voice and starts reading. “I’ll call your names and let you know about your assigned units. Cam, Teo, you’re in the No. 19 Squadron. Duke, Korra, the No. 48 Squadron. Bolin, the French need a bomber. You’re with them.”

Korra feels a bit sorry for the boy. _I hope he knows at least a bit of French_.

“Questions?”

Duke raises his hand. “When do we geit to fly the planes?” He asks in his thick Scottish accent.

The lieutenant looks at him and bursts into laughter. “Trust me lad, the last thing you want to be eager for is flying. You’ll never want to walk the earth more than when bullets of Fokkers start flying around your head. It’s hell up there.”

 _Wow, fine words of encouragement,_ Korra thinks to herself and for a second, she imagines herself up there in the sky, dogfighting the enemy planes. She wants to help her country win this war and bring back peace. The war has already taken too big of a toll on everyone.

“Alright, if that’s all – 19th Squadron, you report to squadron leader Tom. You’ll find him there.” The lieutenant points to a small building behind the young pilot officers. “Squadron 48, you report to squadron leader Sato.” He points to the building near the hangar. “There. And you,” he looks at Bolin, “you’ll come with me. From now on, you answer directly to your squadron leaders.” Eyeing them, he clanks his heels together. “Pilot officers, attention!”

Korra and the others snap into the position of attention, waiting for further orders.

“You’re dismissed!” barks the lieutenant and the small group separates, going into the designated directions.

“Do ye reckon they’ll send us in when the offensive starts?” asks Duke, as he and Korra approach the building.

“I think so, yes. If it’s true that the Germans have been shooting our guys down like flies, then we’re going to need all hands on deck,” replies Korra. “I think this is it,” she says when they stop at the entrance of the building. She knocks and opens the door where she finds two people, a man and a woman, talking at a desk, a huge map splayed across the wooden surface.

“Excuse me, we’re looking for squad commander Sato.”

Without turning towards her, the man tells her to come in. “And please do wipe your boots before you enter.”

Korra does as she’s told and Duke mimics her actions, doing his best to get the majority of the mud off his boots. They walk closer and stop next to the pair. Korra looks at the raven haired woman’s profile. She is caught deep in her thoughts, her eyes fixed on the map, while her fingers play absentmindedly on her chin. _She can’t be much older than me._ Without even getting a full view of her face, Korra finds her beautiful.

She turns back to the man, who looks very young as well. “Squadron leader Sato, my name is Korra, this is Duke. We’re reporting for duty.” That piques the woman attention and she finally turns around to face the pilot officers. Her emerald eyes now on Korra, the newbie almost gasps, but luckily manages to restrain herself from doing it. _Yep, she’s drop dead gorgeous._

For no reason, a mischievous smile starts playing on the raven haired beauty’s face and with the corner of her eye, Korra catches her squadron leader shaking his head at the woman.

“C’mon, Asami, you know the last three fellows never recovered after that,” he pleads, but it’s evident he’s enjoying the exchange.

Korra looks at Duke, who just shrugs his shoulders, having no clue what this is all about.

“Play along,” says the woman and her comrade sighs with a smirk.

“Fine.” Suddenly, he snaps into the position of attention and barks an order. “Pilot officers, A-position!”

Korra and Duke quickly do as they’re told, both wondering what that was for, and in the blink of an eye they’re both in the high plank position.

Then the woman’s voice barks a new order. “Pilot officers, B-position!”

Confused, they go into the new position, putting their transport bags on their abdomens, so they can lie on their backs. “Give me fifty crunches!” she orders and they start moving.

The pair of officers is looking at them with amusement while the newbies struggle with their heavy bags.

Before they get to twenty, a new order is called. “Pilot officers, stand up and give me thirty squats!” orders the squadron commander and Korra and her comrade shuffle back to their feet.

This time they haven’t even started working when the woman gives them a new order. “Back to B-position!”

And then right after that the commander barks his order, which leaves the pair of newbies going up and down while the ranking officers yell their orders simultaneously.

“C-position!”

“Stand up!”

“A-position!”

“What are you–”

“Give me twenty–”

“–looking at?!”

“–push-ups!”

“I can’t– ”

“What is–”

“–see you working!”

“–this fiddly fiddle?”

 By now, Korra is deeply confused, not sure how it got to this. She was sweating and her muscles were getting sore. Right when she was about to do an offence and ask what is going on, both officers yelled a new order in unison.

“Pilot officers, attention!”

Standing straight and trying to hide their heavy breathing, they look at the wall behind the pair in charge.

The man turns to the raven haired beauty. “Squadron commander Sato, you may continue from here.”

_Oh shit._

At that moment, Korra wishes she drowned in that muddy puddle she was standing in not long ago. It takes all of her willpower to not hit her forehead and fall on her knees to start apologizing. _This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening. You stupid idiot, Korra, stupid, stupid, stupid. Insignias on the uniforms are there for a reason, you dumb fuck._ Her cheeks, ears and neck are on fire. The fact that she can actually _feel_ awkwardness radiating from Duke’s body makes the situation even worse.

“Yes, wing commander Iroh. Understood,” replies the real squadron officer. They salute and a moment later, the tall man leaves the building.

Silence envelopes them and Korra doesn’t dare to look at her officer.

“At ease,” commands Asami, and the pair relaxes a bit. Finally looking at her face, Korra notices that the mischievous smile never left Asami’s lips. That makes her feel a bit better about this whole mishap. But only a bit.

“As you know now, I’m your squadron commander. The name’s Asami. Asami Sato and from now on you’re under my command, unless you’re told otherwise. I’ll take you for a tour around the base, so you get familiar with how things are done here. That was going to be your first lesson but since you’ve just gone through one, which was, by the way, what, Korra?”

For a moment, Korra doesn’t register the commander is talking to her. She is too busy with being embarrassed and, at the same time, admiring this beauty standing in front of her. “Oh, um, the first lesson?” asks Korra awkwardly. 

Asami nods, urging her to continue.

“Yeah, the first lesson was that you should always check the officer’s rank before, er, addressing them?” Korra finishes lamely.

“Correct,” says Asami. “I expect this was a one-time lesson.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replies Korra.

“Alright then. I’ll show you where to leave your things, then we can start the tour. Follow me,” orders Asami and takes her jacket and puts it on, untucking her long raven hair and letting it fall on her back.

Walking outside, she stops and shows Duke where the men’s rooms are, which leaves Korra and the officer alone. They keep walking in silence, until the pilot officer finds her courage to speak. “Commander Sato?”

“Yes, Korra?” says Asami without looking back.

“I wanna apologize for, you know, for not being careful enough and ignoring the fact that I shouldn’t have assumed things. You probably get that a lot and since I’m a woman in the military myself, this whole situation makes it even worse because I know how things can be really hard for someone like you and me and–and I’m really sorry.” Korra looks down at her hands. She doesn’t know when they stopped and suddenly, there’s a hand gripping her shoulder gently. She looks up and is caught in pools of emerald, looking softly down at her. _Why is she so beautiful and I’m so stupid?_

“Korra, it’s alright, you’ve learnt your lesson and besides, I think we still have a long way to go until we fix this … Issue. No hard feelings,” says Asami and squeezes Korra’s shoulder lightly before letting it go. “Though, you still have to apologize to wing commander Iroh. I’m warning you, he won’t let you go that easily.”

Korra feels her blood drain away and she tries to say something, but those words come out as a mumbling mess.

“I’m just kidding, he’s probably still laughing his butt off. That, or he’s already forgotten about it all.”

“Yeah, I’d probably laugh at my confused and blushing face too if I wasn’t too busy dying of embarrassment.”

That makes Asami laugh and Korra decides she wants to hear more of that sound. “C’mon, I’ll show you your room before your comrade starts thinking we took a girls’ night out.”

After removing their boots at the barrack, they enter and Asami leads them to a small room with six bunk beds. They are all empty except for one, which is done neatly.

“At the moment, there are currently only three women at the base. You, me and a communications operator, but she’s staying at her post, so it’s only us. You can pick whichever bed you want,” says Asami.

_We’re alone in here? I’m going to sleep in here, alone with her, with no one else? I’ll never get any sleep. And which bed should I choose?_

“Is this one fine?” asks Korra and points to the one next to Asami’s. It would look weird if she picked the one on the other side of the room.

“Sure, just leave your things here, you’ll make your bed later, because we’re on a tight schedule,” replies the commander.

Korra tucks her bag under the bed. “I’m ready.”

“Excellent! Let’s go.”

Duke’s waiting for them where they separated earlier. “I’ll take you to the hangar first so you can meet your planes,” says Asami as they start walking towards the huge metal building. “In which aircrafts have you flown?”

 “AVRO 504,” reply Korra and Duke in unison.

“Hm, still? I thought they had replaced them with something newer or at least something that’s similar to what we’re flying here … Those old machines don’t stand a chance against the new models of Fokkers and Albatroses.”

“Well, we did get to fly Sopwith Pups once,” says Korra.

“Better, but still not enough. I guess we’ll have to do a lot of test flights in the next two days.” Asami’s voice sounds a tad angry for the first time since they’ve met. “Here we are.” They stop in front of the hangar, filled with planes of different shapes and sizes. “Those birds over there,” the commander points to the left side of the building, “are new Bristol F.2 two seated biplane fighters. The patrol team took six of them for a test ride. This is their first real action flight.”

Walking over to another set of planes, the trio stops in front of a red biplane fighter. “This is my baby, Nieuport 17. She is my first plane. Her fist owner died after landing on the base. He bled out in her.” Asami taps the wing lovingly before she proceeds and makes a gesture towards a pair of two slightly damaged planes. “Yeah, these two have seen better days. SPAD S. VIIs, these are a bit heavier than my Nieuport, but since the only training you have is with those rugged machines, you shouldn’t have much trouble getting used to them.”

Korra walks closer to the one Asami is standing close to. She can’t help but admire the lines and curves of _her_ plane. This is what she’s been dreaming about her whole life. To _fly_. Feel the wind and see the world beneath her as it grows smaller with each second.

“She’s beautiful,” the young pilot whispers before she realizes she’s not alone. She looks at her commander who’s smiling at her. It’s a warm smile, no trace of mockery in it. Her eyes are filled with understanding. For a moment, they stare at each other, Korra’s hand still on _her_ plane, while Asami leans on her aircraft, arms crossed on her chest.

The moment is lost when shouts and yells echo through the base.

“Squadron officer Sato, the flight is returning!” yells one of the mechanics.

Asami stands straight again. “Pilot officers, follow me!” she barks and they’re off. Duke smiles at Korra. They’re both excited to see the landing of planes that are returning from the battle zone, even though it was just a patrol.

They arrive to the airstrip, stopping next to the wing commander, to whom Korra still owes an apology. She’s about to say something when a shout interrupts her.

“There they are!”

Korra wants to shout with excitement, greet the pilots, but the look on Asami’s face stops her.

“Why are there only two of them?” the commander whispers and indeed, only two aircrafts are approaching them from behind the high hills.

One of them is leaving a heavy trail of smoke behind it. It’s a miracle the thing is still in the air.

“Get the medic!” yells the wing commander and someone runs back towards the base.

Something heavy settles in Korra’s stomach as the planes land. She looks at Asami whose eyes are expressing more than just worry.


	2. Chapter 2

“They came out of nowhere,” says the pilot that managed to return to the base in one piece. “There were five of them … And the Red Baron was with them.”

“Yeah, he took down two of ours on his own,” breathes the tail gunner, his head in his hands.

Korra gasps at the mention of the Red Baron. She’s heard stories about him, which most of the time turned out to be true. He’s most likely the best fighter there is. “ _The Red Devil” suits him better_.

“There’s no hope for Spades, Grasshopper and Willie. They went straight down,” reports the pilot, while the wing commander writes everything down. He and a few other officers have been questioning the pair ever since they took a shot of whiskey after landing to calm their nerves a bit.

“What about flight lieutenant Cruiser?”

“He had to make an emergency landing … Behind the enemy lines. He’s been captured,”

“Fuck,” mutters the squadron leader Tom. “I should have gone with them, damn it!”

Asami lays a hand on the distressed man’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault,” she soothes. The men that went on patrol duty are members of No. 19 Squadron. Tom’s men. “It was a patrol flight. They would have turned around at the first sign of trouble. The Germans must have known they were coming.”

“It was the darn planes … These Bristols ain’t no shit against the bloody Albatroses,” says the pilot angrily.

“What’s wrong with them?” asks Asami, a deep frown colouring her features.

“I dunno, it just didn’t feel _right_ flying them.”

“Hm …” Korra watches Asami, who goes into her trademark state of furious thinking and pondering things over. Her eyes are unfocused and the young pilot officer can almost hear the wheels turning in the commander’s head.

“Squadron commander Sato, is there something on your mind?” asks Iroh, clearly being familiar with the display.

“Many things, sir. The problem shouldn’t be in the planes,” Asami replies and turns to look back at the hangar. “Do I have the permission to inspect one of the aircrafts, sir?”

“Yes, of course. We cannot let this happen again. These are brand new planes, most of our boys will be flying them in two days and if we don’t figure out what the problem is, there will be severe casualties. We can’t afford to lose more of our people. Our squadrons are already small as it is.” The wing commander looks sadly at Tom, who’s talking to the rest of his squadron. “Do whatever is necessary to make those birds hunters, not prey.”

“Yes, sir,” says Asami and salutes. Turning to Korra and Duke, who have been standing there through the whole exchange, occasionally helping with small things like getting blankets for the survivors. “Pilot officers, I need your attention.”

The pair stands straight, their gazes on the squadron commander.

“It’s time we make some use of you. Duke, grab a piece of paper and a pen and go ask commander Tom for the permission to question the survivors, especially the pilot, again. Tell him I sent you, he’ll know what to ask. Korra,” she turns to the girl, her face serious, “you’ll go with me. I need an assistant to help me take down the notes of the plane and hold the flashlight. We’ve been having some electricity problems ever since the bombing that happened a few months ago.”

“Uh, ma’am, do you happen to have some paper with ya?” asks Duke sheepishly.

Asami pulls a small notebook from one of her thigh pockets and hands it to him. “Here. You are dismissed.”

Then she starts walking towards the hangar with Korra trailing behind her. “See the mechanic there?” Asami asks and points to the man who is tending to one of the planes.

“Yes,” replies Korra.

“Go ask him for a flashlight and the tools. I’ll prep the Bristol.”

“Yes, ma’am,” says the girl and runs off to the mechanic and asks him for the requested things. He gives them to her and she goes to the hangar, but Asami is nowhere to be seen. “Commander Sato?”

“Up here!” A voice coming from the plane’s cockpit catches Korra’s attention. She climbs on the wing and peeks into the plane’s compartment. Asami’s looking at the report that’s been written before the take off. She’s straining her eyes in the darkness so Korra quickly turns on the flashlight, directing it to the clipboard in the commander’s hands.

“Thank you, Korra,” says Asami and the young pilot smiles to herself, her belly filled with fluttering sensations. She loves how her name sounds when coming from those, oh, so very kissable lips. _Wait, what? Whoa, easy, Korra. Focus, there will be no kisses._

“Uh, Korra?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“The light.”

_Huh? It’s in my – oh._ Her mind _and_ hand drifted away, pointing the flashlight somewhere towards Asami’s legs. “Sorry.”

The commander chuckles. “It’s okay. Where did you wander?” she asks, a smile playing on her lips.

“I, uh, was just wondering how … How come you ended up being a pilot?” replies Korra lamely. Of course, it’s a lie, though she _is_ genuinely interested in her story.

“Same as you. I finished school, went through the training and here I am,” says Asami absentmindedly while turning the page.

Korra rolls her eyes and lowers the flashlight which brings Asami’s attention to her. “What?” she asks innocently.

“You know what I mean.”

“I know, I know,” says Asami, her eyes back on the report. “I’m actually an engineer. My father and I built planes, among other things, and I just love them. I love how it feels to have control over something so amazing. People have always wanted to fly. It was like an universal dream that many of us shared. Now I’m actually able to live that dream. Understanding how it all works is a bonus. I don’t want to brag, but I know better than anyone here where the limits are, how far I can push the aircraft before the engine fails or the wings tear off the body.” She’s now looking at Korra, who’s leaning her chin on her hands, completely caught in Asami’s voice. “I would have stayed at home when the war begun if it wasn’t for my father. He … He joined the Royal Flying Corps. He was one of the best pilots the royal military has ever seen.”

_Was._ That single word echoes in Korra’s mind. Her heart breaks. She wants to give her a hug but there’s this stupid barrier between them. Not to mention that it probably isn’t even appropriate.

“Of course, I wanted to join him,” she continues with a sad chuckle. “I had no problem getting in. I knew my stuff and I knew how to fly. It didn’t take me much to convince them to accept me. They needed pilots. When dad found out, I thought he was going to put me into his plane and fly me home himself, but I managed to convince him to let me stay. So we flew together. I got his back. Until one evening. We were patrolling, a standard procedure, just like today. Such irony.” Another sad chuckle escapes her and she brushes a single tear off her cheek. “The Germans set the anti-aircraft machinery behind the trenches. One second we were flying and talking about a new idea he got. It was about building commercial planes, which would take many people at once across the oceans. The next second, half of our wing was missing and we started falling. I still don’t know how he managed to do it, the plane was doomed, but somehow he landed it on friendly territory. It was a bumpy landing, I broke my left arm and leg, but I was fine except for that and a few bruises. When I called his name though … He didn’t answer. He was dead before the rescue team found us.”

Silence fills the space between them. _Screw the rules. And this barrier._ Korra leans over somewhat awkwardly and wraps her hands around Asami. Even though she’s known her for only a few hours, she can’t stand seeing someone in a state like this.

The commander stills for a moment and Korra starts thinking that maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all. But then Asami returns the hug and pulls the younger woman closer.

The hug is awkward. Really awkward. Korra is leaning over the the hull of the aircraft, while holding Asami close, with her cheek resting on the top of the commander’s head. Asami’s clutching Korra’s forearm and her face finds a nice spot on the young pilot’s shoulder.

They stay like that for the longest of moments, before Asami starts pulling away. Korra quickly releases her and pulls back. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if that was appropriate or–or something, I ju–”

“Shh, thank you, Korra. It surprised me a bit, but it was far from being unwelcome. Quite the contrary, I actually needed that. So, once again, thank you.” She smiles softly at Korra, who is, for the second time that day, blushing profusely, and covers the young pilot’s hand with her own, giving it a small squeeze.

Korra looks at their hands and her heart throbs almost painfully. “I’m sorry about your father though,” she says.

“Thank you.” Asami probably realizes that they’ve been staring at each other for quite some time, so she clears her throat and retracts her hand, running it through her hair. “So, I haven’t found anything unusual in the reports. Let’s check the engine.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replies Korra and hops off the wing and waits for Asami to join her. The commander takes a screwdriver from the toolbox and opens the hood. She examines the engine and after some time, tells Korra to close it.

“Nothing, the engine is in perfect condition,” says Asami and wipes her hands with a rag, which she pulled from the back pocket of her pants. “This can only mean there’s a flaw in the design or that I am right.”

Korra admires this woman. Not long ago she was telling her about her father’s death and a few moments later, she’s back to this confident, strong woman that’s so sure of herself and things she’s saying.

Asami starts reading a manual with all the planes specifics, walking around the plane, checking its parts. She tells Korra to get into the cockpit and use the controls to move the flaps. Korra obliges happily, taking a hold of the joystick, her feet planted on the pedals. After going through every possible move, she climbs out and joins Asami.

“Well, it turns out I’m probably right,” states Asami matter-of-factly.

“So, what’s your theory?” asks Korra as they start walking towards their barracks.

“The planes are perfectly okay. It’s about the tactics. We don’t know how to properly fly them, which is understandable. We’ve been drilling the crossfire tactic since I can remember, but these planes just aren’t built for this. Bristols are powerful, their engines are strong, and I’m pretty sure they can do some incredible acrobatics. Their manoeuvrability should be fine, not to mention the speed. We just have to change the way we fight,” she says simply.

“I understand, but there’s no time for that.”

“Two days of time are still better than nothing.” They stop at their barracks and Korra opens the door. “I’ll leave you now. I have to report our findings and find Duke to give me his notes.”

Korra is a bit saddened by the fact that Asami will leave her side. She feels so comfortable in her presence.

“Understood,” she replies simply, hiding the fact that she would rather see her stay.

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be busy. Good night, pilot officer Korra.”

“Good night, squadron commander Sato.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

It takes Korra solid three hours to fix her plane. Patching the holes is a time consuming job and by the end, her fingers are all blistered and bloody. She has never been good with a needle and a thread so it’s not a surprise she poked herself multiple times, each time letting out a course, which left Duke open-mouthed on several occasions.

“Finally! My birdy is ready for take-off,” exclaims the young pilot, throwing her arms into the air.  

“Have you checked again in case you missed anything?” asks Duke, wiping his oil stained hands with a rag, then closing the engine compartment with a bang.

“Yeah, I checked it three times and it’s good to go. What about you? Need help with anything?”

“Nah, I’m almost done. Just gotta change the landing gear and git some gas and I’ll be ready,” replies Duke.

“Okay then, I guess I’ll report to the squadron leader now. See ya!” Korra greets and starts searching for her officer. She hasn’t seen Asami since morning. Despite the fact the older woman went to sleep much later than Korra, she woke up at the first sign of sunlight kissing the clouds. The young pilot remembers Asami getting out of bed and telling her that she still has an hour to sleep. Korra mumbled something, too groggy to form a coherent sentence and fell asleep quickly after.

Looking for her squadron commander she almost bumps into someone but luckily manages to stop before causing an accident. “Sorry, I was just – oh, flight commander Iroh, I didn’t see you there,” Korra sputters and quickly salutes the tall officer.

He chuckles and returns the salutation. “At ease, pilot officer Korra. What’s the rush?”

“I’m looking for squadron commander Sato. Do you by any chance know where I could find her?”

“Well, if you’re looking for Sato, then you’ve already found me,” he replies with a wink.

Korra laughs nervously. “Ha-ha, very funny sir,” she replies, feeling a blush spreading across her cheeks again. “Yeah, about that, I still haven’t apologized, so I might as well do it now.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, a smirk resting on his lips. “Okay, I’m listening.”

Korra scratches the back of her head and tries to remember the words she was going to say but of course, they are gone in the moment she needs them. “So, um, I am really sorry about yesterday for assuming that you’re squadron commander Sato.”

He raises his eyebrow. “That’s it?”

She looks at him nervously, trying to remember what else is she supposed to say. “Uh, yes?”

He keeps looking at her funnily until he grins and pats her shoulder. “Apology accepted then. You did apologize to commander Sato as well, right?”

 Korra releases a sigh of relief. “Yes, of course, sir. I’ve learnt my lesson,” she replies.

“Very well. You can find her …” he looks around and then towards the sky where two planes are going through the morning routine, “Up there.” The flight commander points towards one and Korra’s eyes follow the way. “She’s been flying the Bristol for the whole morning now,” he says, admiration evident in his voice.

Korra’s eyes widen in surprise. “I thought she flies the Neuport?”

“Yes, she does, but earlier today she asked for permission to test the Bristol herself and find out what the issue is with the planes. She’s probably the best fighter pilot and engineer here at the base. Hell, probably in the whole RFC. It’s a huge honour fighting alongside her. If anyone, it’s her who’s going to figure out the problem.”

The young pilot hums in response, her mind lost in the loops and turns and rolls as her commander manoeuvres the plane through the air effortlessly. It’s like watching a bird, an eagle cutting the air currents with its wings. For a few moments she disappears behind the clouds, which are floating low on the sky today, and then reappears, with a soft white line trailing behind her. Korra wonders how come the patrol had problems with the planes while Asami flies the plane with such ease. _She’s like one with her plane_ , Korra thinks to herself.

“Well, I think she’ll be landing soon,” says the flight commander and tucks his pocket watch back in one of the pockets on his uniforms. “You can wait for her at the airstrip.”

“Yes, sir,” replies Korra and salutes.

“Pilot officer, dismissed,” says Iroh and salutes back.

Korra all but runs towards the landing zone. She can’t wait to have training with Asami. After witnessing the display of such grace and skill, she can’t wait to see what the commander can do with _her_ plane which she’s used to flying with.

Not long after Korra gets to the airstrip, Asami lands gracefully, killing the engine at the designated place where the mechanics and other staff wait to take over. Korra waits patiently for her commander who exchanges a few words with one of the mechanics and then pats his back with a smile. She turns around and notices the young pilot smiling widely at her. Returning the smile, she takes off her greasy goggles and the helmet, tucking it under her arm as she approaches Korra. The younger woman is about to raise her hand in salutation but Asami quickly interrupts her. “It’s okay, no need for formalities,” she says and stops before her, wiping her dirty face with a rag.

“Good morning, commander,” greets Korra.

“Good morning. How did you sleep?” asks Asami and for a moment, a soft breeze brushes through her dark wavy hair and Korra barely stops herself from reaching out and tucking that single strand behind her officer’s ear.

“Like a dead person,” she replies, her eyes back on Asami’s.

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” says the commander, chuckling lightly. “So, did you manage to fix your plane?” she asks and starts walking towards the hangar.

“Oh, yeah, that’s why I’ve been looking for you, ma’am. I’m ready to fly.”

“Excellent, that’s great to hear. How about pilot officer Duke?”

“He’s almost done as well.”

“Good, when you’re both ready, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the squad. Then we’re gonna roll.”

“Sounds good,” replies Korra. “Did you find anything new? I mean about the Bristols,” asks Korra, her eyes always drifting towards Asami. It’s hard not to look at such beauty.

“No,” states Asami. “I just confirmed my theory. Our pilots are simply not trained to fly these birds. We’ve been sticking with the same tactics for years now. But the Germans have new planes and they’ve developed new ways to fight. We’ve been getting new planes too, but we do nothing about tactics even though it’s essential to adapt and keep evolving.”

“I presume we’re getting a lesson before flying today then?”

“Correct. Cross fighting should be history when it comes to Bristols. We can do so much more with the new planes.” Asami pauses and looks at Korra, who seems to be pondering something very deeply. “But you don’t have to worry, you’re still flying your SPAD and you’re using the old tactics,” says the commander.

“Good, I was starting to worry all my hard work was for nothing,” chuckles Korra.

Two hours later, after a briefing and an explanation about the new tactics and introduction of the newbies to the rest of the squadron, Asami and her pilots are at the airstrip, boarding their planes. Asami is in her Nieuport, Korra and Duke in SPADs, and others in Bristols. Korra doesn’t have problems with remembering most of their names. Well, their nicknames. Funky Jo and Oldman are identical twins and Korra is sure she will never be able to tell them apart. Monk, Rock and Spoon are the loud ones, always laughing about something. The moment they met her, they named her “Kid”, not because she would be the youngest, but because she’s the shortest of them all. If it wasn’t for the fact that Asami chuckled at the pout on Korra’s face, the girl would feel a bit upset, but that laugh was worth all the teasing. Not to mention Asami told the men to stop teasing her after a while, when it was obvious they can’t get to her anymore.

Whiskey and Vodka are the serious ones, two big and seemingly grumpy men, but when Korra got to talk to them, she figured out they are kind souls who just want to go back home to their families.

She also found out they don’t drink.

There are six other men in the squadron, but Korra can’t quite recall their names yet.

“Okay, squadron 48, listen up,” Asami’s voice echoes through the base and all the pilots stop talking and turn their attention to the commander. “We’re going through our first drill as I showed you earlier. Later, the other two squadrons, number 19 and MS22 will join us. Our job is to protect the bombers and drive away any potential airborne threat. Understood?”

“Understood!” replies the squadron in unison.

“Good. But first, let’s go through our first drill,” says Asami and puts on her helmet. “Let’s do this!”

It’s before they even manage to leave one of the barracks, when the sirens go off and fill the air with their ear piercing wails.

A moment later shouting joins the sirens. “ _We’re under attack!_ ” comes a voice from the outside and the door opens, revealing a distressed face of one of the mechanics. “Take cover! German bombers are approaching!” And then he’s gone.

Korra and the rest of the squadron set their eyes on commander Sato, waiting for her orders.

Without missing a beat, she says, “What are you waiting for? Let’s go, let’s go!”

“Yes, ma’am!” comes a chorus of replies and they leave the place, sprinting towards the hangar. Outside, people are running around, pilots, mechanics and other members of staff, getting to their posts and getting ready for the attack. To someone who doesn’t know better, it looks like chaos, but the truth is, everyone knows exactly where they’re going.

Korra and her companions are supposed to be with their planes and that’s where they’re headed. But before they’re even halfway through, they all stop in their tracks. _They’re already here,_ thinks Korra as she spots enemy bombers approaching the base. Due to low-level clouds, it’s been impossible to spot them sooner.

That’s why it’s a surprise when the first bomb hits one of the abandoned farms, located near the airbase. Three more follow and Korra can feel the ground trembling beneath her feet. The explosions are loud, very loud, and the fact that they’ve erased a whole building from the face of the Earth, just like that, twists something hard and deep inside Korra’s belly. _This is war, what did you expect?_

“We’re too late!” yells Asami, “Take cover!”

It’s hard to hear her words. A few moments after the first explosion, two more follow and before they know it, those three explosions turn into a series of deafening blasts. It’s like the clouds have finally relented and started weeping metal and piercing tears, their contact with earth making it nearly impossible to hear anything else. No other sound can penetrate the thick and heavy wall of explosions and soon it feels like a fog has filled Korra’s mind, cushioning every thought and blast, paralyzing her completely. Somewhere deep in her mind, she knows she’s supposed to be doing something, but everything feels heavy as she tries to search for that one thing that she has to do.

A firm hand wraps around Korra’s bicep, tugging her with such force she nearly falls over. Her face is met with Asami’s, whose eyes are filled with anger, determination and … _Fear_. She’s telling her something, but no sound leaves the commander’s lips. Then Asami pulls her even closer, her eyes boring into Korra’s.

“ _Focus, soldier! You need to find cover! Now!”_ Something in those words snaps Korra out of it and she shakes her head, trying to clear her mind of that thick, foggy wall and once again she’s met with the real volume of her surroundings. “ _Korra_ , did you hear me? Take cover!” repeats Asami and this time, the young pilot nods.

“Yes, ma’am!” she replies. Her commander sighs and then closes her eyes for a brief moment.

“Now go!” says Asami and starts to turn around, but Korra catches her arm, stopping her.

“Aren’t you coming, Commander?” asks the young pilot.

“I’ll be right behind you! I have to get my notes!” yells Asami and with that she’s off. Korra’s eyes follow her and then she realizes that Asami is going for the hangar. She is sprinting towards the tall building, getting further and further away from Korra as the bombers and their escort get closer with each passing second. Right when Korra decides to go after Asami and stop her from getting herself killed, one of the twins grabs her waist and hoists her over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?!” protests Korra loudly. “Put me down, I have to stop commander Sato!”

“She’ll be fine!” replies her “captor”.

“She’s running straight towards the Ger-”

Korra doesn’t finish the sentence. The sound of a flying machine gun spitting its bullets fills the air and stops her from saying anything else. Her hands fly to her head in an attempt to protect herself. Specks and drops of mud fill her vision making it hard for Korra to see the blurry outline of her commander as she disappears in the now lit hangar.

“Let me go! We have to help the commander, you twat!” she yells at Funky Jo or Oldman, she doesn’t really know and frankly doesn’t care as she pushes with all her might against the broad back in a struggle to free herself.

“Hold still, Kid!” comes the voice from behind her and Korra can feel the grip on her tightening. “It’s an order!”

“You’re not my superior!” Korra roars and pushes once again, shifting her weight which makes the twin stumble for a bit and she seizes the chance and frees herself with a roll over his back, landing with a thud in the mud.

“What the–” Korra is running towards the hangar before he even manages to turn. With a wave of his hand he dismisses her and runs for cover while Korra struggles through the mud and holes and bullets.

“Commander Sato!” she yells on top of her lungs as she reaches the burning hangar, her heart sinking a bit at the thought that she was too late. The crippling fear threatens to overwhelm her again but somehow she manages to push it back and enters the hangar.

It is filled with smoke and half of the roof is now burning on the ground while the other half is moments away from collapsing. “Commander Sato!” Korra calls again, hoping to hear a reply from her commanding officer.

“Korra!” comes a reply through the veil of flames and smoke. It fills Korra’s lungs and she covers her nose with the sleeve of her jacket and lowering herself to be as close to the ground as possible.

“Commander Sato! I’m here!” Korra yells back, searching the place which is proving to be difficult as her eyes start watering from the pain that the smoke is causing.

“Korra, help me!” Commander replies and the sinking feeling in Korra’s heart deepens. She needs to find Commander. _I need to find her_ now, she thinks after looking up at the roof.

“I’m coming, ma’am!”

Remembering where Commander’s station is, Korra tries to navigate her way through the rubble and fire. She’s never felt hotter in her life. She kicks a wooden crate out of her way and the bright orange sparks fly into the air. With the path cleared, Korra keeps pushing through, trying to avoid the blistering flames. She catches movement from the corner of her eye and turns her head towards it. It’s Commander Sato, trapped in a ring of fire, crouching on the ground with her hands covering her head. She turns her gaze to meet Korra’s eyes and it pierces the young pilot’s eyes. It’s filled with horror.

Korra rushes to her and tries to get as close as possible but a burnt rafter is blocking her way. If she could move it, Asami would be able to crawl under the broken wing of one of the fighter planes.

“Commander, are you okay?” Korra asks, looking for a way to get around.

“I’m fine, I just really wanna get out of here,” replies Asami, her eyes scanning the surroundings. “I see no way out though.”

“I’ll find a way!” says Korra firmly and a determined look sets on her face. “I’ll try to pull the rafter out of the way.”

“You can’t, it’s too heavy and you’ll burn yourself!”

But Korra doesn’t listen. She’s decided. Pulling off her jacket, she wraps it around the rafter, grabbing its sleeves and starts pulling. She ignores the coughing fit that is tickling her lungs and she feels the rafter move slightly. It’s heavy and it takes all of Korra’s might to keep pulling.

“You’re doing it, Korra, just a bit more!” Calls Asami excitedly and is about to help her push when the jacket catches on fire and with a yelp she retracts her hands just in time. A moment later the jacket falls apart and Korra nearly falls over, with her torn jacket hanging uselessly in her hands. She chucks it into the fire, staring at the rafter. She is too close to moving the rafter away to stop.

Korra steels herself and steps closer.

“Korra, what are you do- NO!” Asami yells as Korra wraps her arms around the rafter and with a roar tugs it out of the way. She screams as the heat bites into her arms and burns through the fabric of her shirt and skin.

But her commander is free now. That’s what matters and she ushers the astonished officer out of her flaming confines.

“You’re mental, Korra, utterly mental,” Asami yells at her as they make their way out of the hangar. The moment they step out into freedom the rest of the roof falls with a loud crash.

The pair gasps, inhaling as much of clear air as possible. Korra falls on her knees and digs her hands into the cold and muddy puddle, cooling down the burns.

“We need to move, Korra,” Asami says hurriedly, tugging at Korra’s arm. Standing in the middle of one hell made her forget about the other one taking place outside the burning hangar.

The sound of machine guns is still piercing the air and it’s getting closer as the enemy notices the two of them standing in the middle of the base.

With a great effort Korra manages to pull herself up and follows her commander. Two more machine guns open fire but for a change, their sound isn’t coming from above – it’s coming from the ground. A moment later, one of the Fokkers crashes.

“It’s about time,” Asami gasps, still leading the way towards the sound of friendly fire. Soon the third machine gun joins the pair and another two Fokkers are shut down, falling off the sky and colliding with the ground with loud crashes.

“Commander Sato! Over here!” comes a voice from a trench on their left. It’s wing commander Iroh, waving at them, a rifle in his arm.

They steer towards him. He is providing them covering fire, shooting at planes left in the sky as Korra and Asami make their way towards safety.

A few moments later the pair reaches the trench and slides down the muddy wall. With heavy breaths they collapse against it and rest their legs.

The cold of the mud feels nice against Korra’s back. “I– never thought– I’d feel cold– again,” rasps Korra between breaths.

“I know– what you mean,” replies Asami, with her eyes closed.

“Are you two okay?” asks the third voice and Korra looks up to see Commander Iroh standing over them.

“Yes, sir,” replies Korra with a small nod.

“Yeah. Thanks to pilot officer Korra,” says Asami and lays her hand on the pilot’s knee. “I owe you.”

Asami is looking into her eyes with deep sincerity and gratitude.

Korra nods at her for she can’t form any real words with that gaze upon her.

With a smile, Asami teases, “I still think what you did was completely mental.”

Korra just snorts in reply.

“We’re gonna need a medic though, pilot officer Korra sustained burn injuries while saving my life.” She points to Korra’s burnt arms.

Wing commander Iroh nods in understanding and barks an order to one of the men in the trenches, who departs in search of a doctor immediately.

The sound of machine guns dies eventually – a sign that the base deflected the attack. The remaining enemy planes pull back after suffering significant casualties. They are leaving as quickly as they came. Korra knows the damage done to the base is major. The main hangar has been obliterated to dust along with its planes. Two other hangars are still in flames. Some people have already started extinguishing the fire but Korra doubts much of the contents are going to be useful again. Some people are lying dead in the mud, some are screaming in pain and some are trying to help those who have been injured.

“I need to go help my comrades,” mumbles Korra and starts climbing out of the trench when a firm hand stops her.

“Where do you think you’re going, pilot officer?” asks Asami.

“They need help,” replies Korra, looking down at her commander.

“Your burns need to be treated. I can’t risk your arms getting infected. Wait here for a doctor,” says Asami firmly with a tone that’s clearly a sign that she won’t allow any further objections.

“They need help more than I do!” Korra argues but Asami doesn’t bulge.

“Most of them are beyond saving! Stay here! That’s an order,” repeats Asami sternly with one last look at Korra. Her gaze drifts towards the burns on the pilot’s arms. “Please,” she says – this time softly.

Korra gives in and nods. The pain is getting significantly more unbearable by each second thanks to adrenaline leaving her body.

Asami climbs out of the trench, leaving Korra alone with her pain and a heavy heart.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess I decided I might actually finish this fic at some point coz why not. 
> 
> Also, a huuuuge thank you to my wonderful gf [Kittymannequin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymannequin/pseuds/kittymannequin) for being an awesome beta <3 (also you should totally check her stuff out coz her writing is brilliant)


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